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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627664">Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Biphobia, Coming Out, F/F, Homophobia, M/M, Molly is kind of homophobic i'm sorry, One Shot, Post-Canon, Sibling Bonding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:14:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627664</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny purposefully comes out to one family member and accidentally comes out to another, with highly varying reactions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>George Weasley &amp; Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley, Lee Jordan/George Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>146</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>disclaimer</b>: i fucking hate JK rowling and that transphobic bitch can choke! i've had this sitting in my drafts for literal years and since i'm cleaning stuff out i decided to put it here. it's a de facto sequel to the other HP fic i wrote when i was like 16, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/7959106">cake</a>.</p><p>just a warning that this fic deals with homophobia! i based this off of HP taking place in the 90s/00s.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You can’t possibly know that. You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>nineteen</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for Merlin’s sake!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ginny knew that she shouldn’t have said anything. Not on a holiday, not to her stubborn mother, not in the home where she grew up. It turned out—as Ginny could have well guessed—that her mother did not believe in bisexuality. This left Ginny incredulous. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re wizards</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We can use magic. Yet you think it’s impossible to be attracted to more than one type of person?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She thought these things, but did not say them of course.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All the time she had been spending with Hermione recently had begun to mold her perspective on certain matters. She saw now how small she was in the grand scheme of things, and she was now often a spectator to life without magic. It was mundane and different from her own, of course, but it was fascinating. She had slowly discovered that wizards, herself even at times, were very obstinate. Her mother was a prime example of this, she thought. Wizards were generally inflexible and conventional in all forms, and so when her mother took to a tangent about how she expected her daughter to act, Ginny stayed silent. She knew that there would be no convincing, no fighting back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t hurt her too much. It was like the dull pain Ginny was used to feeling a week or so after a Quidditch injury, the type that reminds you something has gone wrong without the urgency of something life-threatening. It was all to be expected, until it wasn’t. With one remark, Molly turned the routine pain into something acute and sharp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Besides,” she said. “I know that my daughter would never want to mix with those sorts of people. Those dykes and whatnot. You know I’m not prejudiced, I love all kinds of people, but I won’t have my children running with those morally errant crowds.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The generalizations and harsh words that she used stung. Ginny felt her throat close up, thinking of all the “morally errant” people she knew. Her girlfriend, of course, was the first person that came to mind. Not wanting to risk Hermione’s standing with her mother, she did not bring this fact up, but tears began to well in her eyes as angry responses built up inside her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, mum,” she said, cutting Molly off. “I understand. I won’t bring it up again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Standing suddenly and heading towards the burrow stairs, Ginny kept her head down and walked quickly. She didn’t want her mother to see her cry, not now and not over this. She was so focused on staying discreet that when she reached the top of the stairs, she bumped into someone and nearly fell back down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Had George not caught her, Ginny may have suffered a fate far worse than being reprimanded by her mother. He did, however, and pulled her into a hug afterwards. It was long and affectionate, and after about half a second, Ginny began to suspect that he was playing some sort of trick on her. “Get off me, George,” she said, her voice muffled by his jumper as she attempted to push him away. He only held her tighter, and she felt him shaking with laughter. She was in the midst of debating whether to deliver a kick to the shin or a punch in the stomach to get him away from her when he pulled back of his own accord.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” he said. He was smiling in the way that he always did but there was something more serious about his tone of voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not after you’ve crushed my ribcage,” she replied, making a show of fixing her mussed hair and smoothing her shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I meant,” he said, then, lowering his voice slightly, “I meant after what mum said to you. I heard the whole thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her heart stopped, and Ginny was debating whether to run away for the second time that day or to stay and confront him on the matter. He gave her a long pleading look that begged to discuss the issue with her, and so she glanced around before leading him towards her old room and shutting the door behind him. George stretched out on her twin-sized bed, which was still made up with the pink bedsheets she’d had since she was a child, and waited for her to say something. She only crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly, demanding an explanation as to why he’d been eavesdropping. Perhaps not why—it was George, after all—but more what he had gleaned from the conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you fancy girls,” he said, and Ginny groaned in frustration, sitting with her back against the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I fancy </span>
  <em>
    <span>a </span>
  </em>
  <span>girl,” she said, regretting it immediately. She wasn’t sure why she was being so open with him. She loved her brothers, of course, but George had neither proved himself here nor there on the scale of acceptance, so it was entirely possible that he would turn on her and start saying the sort of things Molly had been. She thought back to their hug on the stairway and decided that this wasn’t a likely outcome, but she remained wary. She looked at George, whose gaze she had been avoiding, and saw that he was staring at her waiting for specifications. “You can’t tell a living soul,” she said. “Alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about a dead one?” George started. Ginny gave him a threatening look, and he quit the joke before the punchline. “Right,” he said. “I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not even Ron.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not even Ron.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Especially not mum.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Especially.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a short sigh, Ginny looked down at her knees drawn to her chest. Her pale fingers hugged the worn jeans she wore, and she took to memorizing every line and curve of this image in an effort to avoid looking up at her brother as she said, “It’s Hermione. I’ve been seeing her lately.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a stiff silence in which Ginny refused to look at him, still tracing the lines of her fingers in her mind, praying that George wasn’t about to betray her. After an excruciating period of waiting for him to respond, she finally glanced up and saw that his face was beet red from holding back laughter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My god, George!” she said, grabbing the thing nearest her on the floor—a paperback book from the top of a pile—and chucking it at his head. “What’s so funny?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He burst into laughter when the book nailed him in the side, tears springing to his eyes. “I can’t believe it. You’re really shacking up with Ron’s ex-girlfriend. By Merlin, that’s something else, Ginny.” He wiped tears from his eyes in an exaggerated manner and sat up, finally looking at her and suppressing his laughter. “I’m quite happy for the two of you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Happy you could find a joke in it, maybe,” she said, curling back into herself, wishing she hadn’t come home for holiday at all. “I shouldn’t have told you. Why don’t you just leave me be now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be that way.” George slid off the bed and sat across from Ginny with his legs crossed. “I’m glad you told me. Honestly. I’ve got a secret too. I haven’t told anyone else in the family.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shocked and slightly dreading what he was about to tell her, Ginny watched as he pulled out his phone and tapped in his passcode rapidly. She couldn’t see his screen, but he seemed to be looking for something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A-ha,” he said after a few seconds of scrolling, and then, “Look.” He held out his phone to her and showed her a picture he’d pulled up on his camera roll. It was an image of him and some other boy, a tall bloke with dark skin and his hair in shorts twists. The two were someplace loud with poor lighting, hugging each other close as George kissed the boy’s cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait a minute,” Ginny said, grabbing his phone without asking and zooming in on the other boy’s face. “Is that—Lee Jordan?” She looked up at her brother, slightly incredulous, and he nodded. Now it was her turn to laugh, a short and quiet string of giggles at the thought of her brother dating Lee Fucking Jordan. Astounding. “Since when?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s see,” George said, locking his phone and setting it down. He used his fingers to count a bit before saying, “That’ll be two and a half years now, yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Christ, George,” she said. “That long and you haven’t told anyone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve experienced first hand what would happen if I did, so don’t give me that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ginny nodded, having been brought back to reality. “You’re right,” she said, and paused. After a moment, she continued. “So… how did it happen?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was after Fred died,” he said bluntly. Ginny felt a lump in her throat just at the mention of his name, but she nodded. “It had been—something had been going on between us already. None of us would say so, but I think that towards the end of sixth year, Lee and I were a lot closer than he was with Fred. We never talked about it because it was the first time Fred and I hadn’t had an even playing ground, if you can believe it. I liked it, and he didn’t so much, I could tell. After—” He faltered. “After the war and all, though, I felt guilty. There was so much I wish I’d said to him.” He was growing more serious than Ginny had seen him recently, and she nudged his knee with her foot to remind him to stay on track. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he seemed to say, continuing on with the story. “Anyway. Lee and I were both pretty torn up, as you know. He would call me in the middle of the night to have someone to talk with, and eventually I started staying over there so we weren’t wasting minutes all the time. I was practically living with him. That sort of situation dug up a bunch of unresolved feelings from our Hogwarts years, and of course, we ended up where we are now. Pretty happy, but…” He trailed off, not finishing the thought, but Ginny knew exactly what he meant. She felt it every time she was with Hermione. Pretty happy, but not openly. Pretty happy, but not like everyone else. Pretty happy, but forced to hide it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to meet him,” she said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George laughed. “You know him, Gin. We all went to school together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I’d like to meet him again. Not as a classmate, but as your boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” George said. That was all. Oh. And then, “Alright. That can be arranged.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ginny smiled, feeling accomplished. George smiled back, feeling, for one of the first times in his adult life, accepted.</span>
</p>
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